


How To Seduce Older Men (Peter B. Parker Edition)

by orphan_account



Series: 5+1: How To Seduce Older Men (The Peter Parker Edition) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1, Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Feminization, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Panties, Spanking, aftercare :D, mild choking, pete's a tease, steve has a "captain" kink ;), subspace?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ...and if all goes well, he’s prepared to maybe flash Mr. Rogers a little, what with the white panties he had on.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Stephen Strange, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers
Series: 5+1: How To Seduce Older Men (The Peter Parker Edition) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638997
Comments: 5
Kudos: 187





	1. captain steve rogers

**Author's Note:**

> one man seduced by my boy petey per chapter! he's just that irresistible ;)

Peter smoothed his skirt down with his hands, worrying about whether Mr. Rogers would like it. He had paired the pink pleated skirt with a silky pink blouse, unbuttoned, to show off his collarbone. For shoes he had gone with white Mary Janes’ for a more feminine look. MJ had suggested that he wear pale pink thigh-high stockings, so that’s what he did. It couldn’t hurt, could it? And if all goes well, he’s prepared to maybe flash Mr. Rogers a little, what with the white panties he had on.  
  
Peter positions himself on the couch and puts on an old episode of Friends. He doesn’t want to seem too posed, so he kicks off his shoes and sits kind of like how a lady from the 50s would at a picnic, making sure that his panties were hidden.  
  
He nearly jumps when the door opens. “Hey, Peter.” Steve calls.  
  
“Hey, Mr. Rogers, sir,” Peter replies, not taking his eyes off of the tv. Steve makes his way inside and says, “Peter, how many times do I- call me Steve.” The man says, laughing lightly.  
  
Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter sees Steve drinking in his outfit. “That’s new.” He observes, opening the fridge.  
  
“Yeah. Dunno.” Peter replies, turning to flash a grin at Steve. He looks a little stunned at first (a common effect of Peter’s smile) but shakes himself out of it.  
  
“Well, y-you look real pretty,” He says, stumbling slightly over his words. “I, uh, like the stockings.”  
  
“Why, thank you, Captain.” Peter jokes and does a little salute.  
  
He saves the panties for later.  
  
The next time Peter does this, he goes a little harder. This time, he wears a shorter skirt, tighter too, pretty much like a miniskirt, paired with a Captain America shirt loosely tucked into it. He forgoes shoes and just wears the stockings from last time, with the same panties.  
  
This time Peter’s entrance is a little bit different. He knows Steve is eating dinner, alone at the counter. He walks up to the man and does a little twirl. “You said you liked the stockings last time, right, Mr. Rogers, sir?” He smiles. “What about this?”  
  
Steve visibly chokes on whatever he just swallowed, and gulps down some water. “Uh, you- I mean, it looks great, Peter.” He says genuinely, eyes lingering at the bare strips of thigh a little too long.  
  
“And the shirt? I got it when I was little. Guess it still fits me.” Peter laughs, a bright tinkling sound.  
  
“When you were little, huh?” Steve mutters, more to himself than to Peter.  
  
“What was that?” Peter asks innocently.  
  
“Nothing,” Steve catches himself. “You- it- looks great.”  
  
“You really think so? Thanks, Captain.” Peter smiles again and does a little wink. He catches Steve staring and stares back. The man looks away and busies himself with cutting another piece of steak, stabbing into it with a little too much force.  
  
“Ooh, that looks good,” Peter coos, ambling closer. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Did you cook that yourself, sir?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s the only thing I know how to not burn. Steak and potatoes. And stop calling me sir.” Steve chuckles, a light blush on his cheeks.  
  
“Could I have a bite, sir?” Peter asks, almost teasingly, standing close beside the man.  
  
“Uh, sure.” Steve says, eyes a little unfocused as he cuts a little piece of meat and forks it. There’s a little awkwardness as they fumble for the fork; does Steve feed him or does Peter take the fork?  
  
In the end, it’s Steve who feeds him.  
  
“Open wide,” he jokes, and Peter opens his mouth. The Captain’s eyes are a little too dark to be friendly and he watches Peter close his mouth around the fork a little too closely to be platonic.  
  
Peter moves closer to Steve, the front of his right thigh touching the left side of the man’s left thigh. He moans a little at the taste of the flavouring (not really faking it; it’s really good) and notices Steve starting to shift around a little in his seat.  
  
Time for the grand finale. Peter pretends to slip a little (the wooden floor is slippery and his stockings are smooth, okay) and grabs onto Steve’s right thigh to stop himself from face-planting. He ends up (oop) sitting on the man a little, his skirt riding up a couple of inches, more than enough to give Steve a peek of his panties.  
  
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Mr. Rogers, sir, I-” Peter moves to get down from the man’s lap when he grabs both of Peter’s arms and lifts him and plops him right back down on the center of his lap. He stifles a little gasp as he feels something hard at the cleft of his ass. (something hard? he’s not fooling anyone)  
  
“Panties, hm, Peter?” Steve says, voice a little croaky. He places his hands on Peter’s waist, pulling out the tucked shirt. “The Captain America shirt. The skirt. The stockings.” He lists off one by one, voice cracking more as he goes on.  
  
Peter makes a little sound akin to a whine, and finds that he’s not only doing this for fun, he also kind of likes it. He throws his head back, heading thunking back against Steve’s shoulder.  
  
“Was it for me?” Steve whispers, turning his head to look at Peter.  
  
“Wanna taste you, sir,” Peter mumbles, kissing at Steve’s jaw clumsily. He hears a low groan from the man and the hard length pressing at his ass presses a little harder. He slides off the skirt easily and it falls to the floor. Makes it easier for him to move around.  
  
“Peter,” Steve grunts as Peter shifts around and turns so that he’s straddling Steve instead. He keeps kissing at the man’s jaw and neck, before Steve lightly pushes him away and presses and open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Peter moans and they sit there for a bit, just kissing, licking at each other’s tongues and biting at each other’s lips. When they finally pull away there’s a string of spittle connecting their lips. Peter giggles. He feels a little high on the Captain’s attention.  
  
“You’re really hard, Captain.” He giggles again, grinding his hips down as if to make a point.  
  
“I know,” Steve says, his hands roaming Peter’s bare thighs. “And drop the formalities, Pete.”  
  
“No,” Peter says, crossing his arms teasingly. “I know you like it, sir.” He says on purpose, hands fumbling to unzip the man’s pants.  
  
“You little- fine. We’ll play it your way.” Steve says, a previously unseen before glint in his eyes. “I’ve had my fair share of twinks like you before.”  
  
Peter rolls his eyes jokingly. “Sure, Captain.”  
  
Steve actually growls at that. But at the same moment Peter had freed his dick from his pants so he wasn’t really sure which the growl was for. It didn’t really matter, anyway.  
  
“Get down on your knees,” Steve barks, his voice changing, getting more authoritative.  
  
Peter plays along, his own dick straining a little in the panties. “Yessir.” He nods, pushing Steve’s chair back so he could kneel in front of the man.  
  
“Did I say you could speak?” Steve says sternly, grabbing Peter’s hair and pulling up so the boy’s looking at him. Peter whines at the sharp pain drawn from Steve pulling at his hair. His eyes water and he shakes his head no.  
  
“Good. Now take my dick in your hand,” Steve instructs him. Peter cups the shaft. “And stroke the underside.” Peter strokes the bottom lightly, feeling it jump and spurt a little precum at the head.  
  
“Good boy,” Steve praises. “Or good girl?” He ponders out loud. Peter gasps a little bit at the words “good girl” and is surprised to feel his own cock spill a little wetness.  
  
“Good girl it is. Since you like wearin’ skirts and panties, hm?” Steve decides. “Lick the head.” Peter licks at the head, little kitten licks that make more precum drip out from the tip. “Good, good. Such a good girl for me, hm? Doing whatever I tell you to. Now what do you say?” Steve asks, clearly waiting for the answer.  
  
“Thank you, Captain, sir.” Peter says obediently.  
  
“Take my dick in your mouth. As far as you can go.” Steve instructs again, his pupils dilated. Peter follows, deepthroating Steve’s dick. He doesn’t get very far, however. The man’s cock is long and girthy. Peter makes up for it by licking and sucking more, trying to still suck the man’s cock.  
  
“Gosh, look ‘atcha, dolled in nothing but a Captain America shirt and panties. So good for me, sweetheart, so good.” Steve compliments. “Use your hands to help,” He comments, hands still fisting Peter’s hair.  
  
Peter pulls away from the man’s cock with a wet pop and uses his hands to slide some of the moisture further up the shaft. Then he takes the cock back in his mouth and simultaneously uses his hands to fist at it.  
  
“Mm, t-that’s good- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” Steve breaks off with a long groan as he cums in Peter’s mouth.  
  
As Steve rides out his high, Peter suckles at his dick like how a baby suckles at their thumb, like sucking at his dick brings him comfort, like he belongs there. The sight almost revives his dick. Almost. But a more important matter is at hand, and Steve, ever the warrior of justice, doesn’t forget.  
  
“You haven’t cum yet, babygirl,” Steve murmurs, stroking Peter’s hair. Peter barely reacts, mouth still wrapped around the tip of Steve’s cock, just makes a small sound of agreement. He feels floaty and Steve feels sturdy. He wants to stay on the ground, just suckling at the man’s cock. It tastes so good.  
  
“It’s okay, I got you, honey,” Steve says softly, gently pulling Peter away from his slowly awakening cock and lifting him to the couch.  
  
“You did so good for me, baby, so good.” He whispers to the boy.  
  
Peter feels airy, feels happy and bubbly at Steve’s praise. He wants to say, “Thank you, sir,” but his mouth feels wobbly and sloppy and no words come out. Instead he whines, pawing at Steve, wanting to touch him.  
  
Peter must be painfully hard by now, Steve thinks. He lowers himself down on Peter carefully, gently so as to not crush him, all while whispering sweet nothings to the boy. Drop isn’t a nice feeling. He feels Peter’s hands grabbing at his hair as he peels back the boy’s soaked lace panties and reveals a cute little hairless cocklet. Steve almost chokes as he watches Peter’s tiny cock squirt untouched.  
“Unh, unh, ungh-” Peter moans, cumming at the feeling of cool air hitting his tiny pink cocklet.  
  
Steve feels more turned on than he’s ever been in his entire life. “Oh, babygirl, you’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Such a pretty little cocklet, cumming at the smallest stimulation. So cute. So pretty.” Steve murmurs, kissing the tip of the boy’s cocklet.  
  
Peter moans again, words pretty much failing him as Steve slowly takes his cute cocklet in his mouth and sucks lightly. “Mm, unh, ah- ah! O-oh, oh, oh- mmf-” He moans and whimpers, noises like music to Steve’s ears.  
  
“Oh, princess. Such a sensitive little cocklet, hm?” Steve chuckles, easily taking all of Peter into his mouth. “The prettiest little cock. The cutest little dick.”  
  
“A-Ah- I, ungh, I’m- unhhh-” Peter moans again, unable to speak as he spills into Steve’s mouth again. “M-more, p-please-” He mumbles.  
  
“Yes, of course, babygirl, anything for you,” Steve says, moving to suck at Peter’s tiny cocklet once more. He barely sucks once or twice before Peter’s writhing and cumming again and begging Steve for more.  
  
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Steve asks, a little concerned about Peter being too overstimulated.  
  
“P-please, Captain?” Peter slurs, ever the little minx even when reduced to a whimpering mess like this.  
  
Steve grunts in agreement. He licks a hot stripe up Peter’s little pink cock and the boy whimpers, pleasure flooding his body.  
  
“A-Ah, oh god, ungh- sir, o-oh, s-sir, captain, oh god, I-I’m c-cumming, I’m cumming sir, I’m squirting-” Peter breaks off with a long whine, face blissfully orgasmic. He falls asleep for a bit after he cums, and Steve quickly goes to grab him a glass of water and a chocolate bar. He wants to be there when Peter wakes up.  
  
When Peter wakes up, he still feels a little floaty, but less so than before. He smiles weakly at Steve, holding a glass of water and a chocolate bar out to him. He takes both gratefully.  
  
“Thank you,” He says, taking a sip of the water. Steve watches him carefully, intensely staring at Peter. He finishes the water and chocolate fairly quickly, and him and Steve are left to stare at each other. It’s him who breaks the silence.  
  
“Well, that was… something.” Steve says thoughtfully, still not taking his eyes off of Peter. He giggles.  
  
“Something indeed,” Peter replies, smiling cheekily.  
  
“W-would you maybe like to do that again, sometime?” Here Steve looks away, hand coming up to rub at his neck.  
  
“Yeah.” Peter says, still grinning. “Um, I’m gonna… go get, uh, more, uh, dressed.” He says awkwardly, pulling his shirt down more to try and cover his crotch.  
  
“I think this is a good look for you, baby.” Steve smirks, slapping Peter’s ass lightly as he walks to his room to get clothes.  
  
“I’ll be wearing this to your room, then, Captain, tomorrow night.” Peter winks, poking his head out to look at Steve.  
  
“It’s a date.”


	2. dr stephen strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make me.” Peter smirks, hooking a leg around Stephen’s as if it’s a pole. He uses that to pull the doctor closer until he’s sure that his crotch is pressed right up against the older man’s thigh.

Peter felt way too exposed in this outift. Actually, a lot of him was covered, it was just very… scandalous. For a lack of a better word. But it had to be done. Any other look other than absolutely scandalous would foil the plan. He supposes it’s because Dr. Strange has a lot more self-control and needs to pull out the big guns, so to speak.

Peter walks out into the living area, mock-sneaking-out. Stephen is there, as planned. He never thought he’d be marching right at the doctor, wearing a pink crop top with “BABY SLUT” emblazoned on the front. But hey, there’s a first time for everything.

“Peter?” Stephen asks, eyebrow raising. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh-” Peter starts before being cut off.

“-especially dressed like that?” The doctor continues.

“Um- out?” Peter says, the sentence coming out as a question. Just playing the part of innocent and naive Peter Parker. “I’m meeting someone.”

Stephen stands, and Peter backs up a few steps on instinct. “No.” The older man says, meaning to leave no room for argument. He looks like he wants to go over there and tear those clothes off of Peter, but whether it’s because he wants Peter, or he wants those clothes off, he doesn’t know. Stephen sits back down.

“N- What?” Peter says incredulously. God, he should be given an Oscar for this. “You’re not in charge of me, Doctor.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” Stephen says calmly. “But no man in their right mind would let a boy go out like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter scoffs, crossing his arms. He catches the way the doctor’s eyes linger at the inch of skin that the action reveals.

“You’re a smart boy. Should be able to figure it out,” Stephen says nonchalantly.

Peter huffs and stomps (in the heels) towards the door, and as his hand lands on the door handle, the doctor is suddenly in front of him. They’re about arm’s length apart, and Peter steps back a little when he finds that he has to look up at the older man because he’s this close.

“No, Peter. You’re not going anywhere dressed like that.” Stephen reiterates, face a mask of calm.

Peter takes two steps forwards, backing Stephen into the wall, really tilting his head up to look at the doctor. His body is almost flush against the older man’s, and he vaguely wonders whether his hardon can be seen through the fabric of his booty shorts.

“Make me.” Peter smirks, hooking a leg around Stephen’s as if it’s a pole. He uses that to pull the doctor closer until he’s sure that his crotch is pressed right up against the older man’s thigh.

Stephen raises an eyebrow again, and pushes Peter back, hard, until the boy’s back is against the wall, hitting it with a thump and Peter’s soft unf.

“Make me?” Stephen asks rhetorically, arms straight out to the wall, hands by Peter’s neck. Enclosing him, almost. “Who were you going to meet?”

Peter doesn’t reply as he stares into Stephen’s eyes and reaches a hand downwards towards the older man’s crotch. He’s hard, Peter thinks.

“You’re hard, Dr. Strange.” Peter giggles, licking his top lip, watching Stephen track the movement. “Can I suck you off?” he asks, fluttering his eyelashes.

Peter’s impressed that up until this point, the doctor had been totally calm. But now- now Stephen’s façade is crumbling.

“Or you can fuck my mouth?” Peter whispers, going on his tiptoes to press a light kiss to the corner of Stephen’s mouth. He hears a low growl and suddenly they’re on his bed, the doctor on top of him. Peter’s completely naked save for his plain black panties. The one with a little bow on the waistband.

Stephen is completely dressed, except his pants are pulled down to his knees and his fully erect cock is out. “You want me to fuck your mouth, baby?” the doctor says, voice hoarse. God, Peter is drooling at the sight of that dick. It’s an average length, but it’s thick, so thick. Peter gapes at the sight.

“Yes, please-” Peter whines, and Stephen is turning, his cock in Peter’s mouth in a second, the fatness of it forcing Peter’s jaw open wider and wider and wider. He blushes at the filthiness of this, how the doctor’s ass is on his face, dick in his mouth, face right on top of his own cock.

“You like taking my cock, baby?” Stephen grunts, fucking Peter’s mouth with short thrusts. The boy doesn’t reply, can’t reply, as he starts to drool around the fat cock in his mouth. “You like it, don’t you? I see you, drooling all over my cock, like you’re hungry for it. You feel so good, babyboy,” Stephen groans.

Peter moans a little, feeling the doctor’s cock hit the back of his throat, and chokes. His throat is constricting around the dick in his mouth, and it’s good, it’s so good-

“Look at you, choking on my cock, such a good boy,” the doctor grunts, pulling his dick out slightly. “Look at you, letting me fuck your face like this.”

Peter whimpers as Stephen lowers himself down again, this time fucking his mouth quickly. “I’m coming-” and the doctor shoots his load into the boy’s mouth. He slowly pulls his cock out and turns back around to face Peter. The boy is slack-jawed, drool everywhere, his hair an absolute mess. “Daddy-” Peter whimpers, and Stephen fucking chokes.

“You want me to be your Daddy, babyboy?” Stephen asks, pulling the both of them to sit upright, Peter on his lap. He barely feels the weight; the boy is light.

“My Daddy,” Peter says deliriously, looping his arms around Stephen’s neck and kissing him. He leans forward with his mouth open, and that’s how their mouths make contact. Peter whines as they exchange open-mouthed kisses, and humps at the doctor.

“Your poor little cock, baby.” Stephen coos as he humps at Peter’s crotch. Hearing the soft “unh, unh, unh"s of the boy makes Stephen willing to go to Hell.

"Daddy, I- I-” Peter whines, cutting off at a particularly rough thrust from Stephen. “Can you make me cum, Daddy?”

“Can I make you cum?” Stephen mutters, more to himself than to Peter. “Of fucking course I can make you cum.”

“Please, daddy? ’M- ’M so hard, it hurts-” Peter moans. Stephen starts humping at Peter’s crotch, fast and unrelenting, and soon enough Peter’s telltale whimpers and whines of “Daddy”-

“-Cumming, I’m cumming- oh, oh, oh-” Peter breaks off with a long moan, cumming in his panties. Stephen doesn’t want to forget the look on Peter’s face when he cums. The black panties that the boy is wearing are completely soaked. He peels them off gently, fingers sticky with Peter’s fluids. The cute hairless cocklet that greets him has the doctor speechless. He traces a finger down from the base and draws a little gasp from Peter.

“So sensitive, baby,” Stephen murmurs. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you.”

The doctor leans down and takes the little cocklet in his mouth gently. He suckles at the tip, almost like sucking at a pacifier.

“O-Oh, Daddy!” Peter moans, his tiny cocklet spurting out drops of precum. Stephen doesn’t reply as he takes the entirety of the boy’s pink cocklet into his mouth, and continues sucking.

“Daddy! Oh, oh- unhhh-” Peter gives no warning as he spills into Stephen’s mouth. The doctor vaguely wonders how many time Peter can cum just like this.

“It'sso good, s'good, unh, unh, Daddyyyy-” Peter moans, cumming again. “I- I can’t, I can’t,”

Stephen switches tactics. “Do you wanna fuck Daddy’s mouth, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy, please-” Peter whispers, and then he’s being lifted up, above Stephen, then put down, ass on the doctor’s face. Peter bounces up and down, fucking his cocklet into Stephen’s mouth, and it’s so hot. His head is thrown back, face flushed a lovely pink, moans and whimpers falling from his lips, ass bouncing up and down on Stephen’s face.

“I’m cumming, Daddy, I’m cumming-” Peter wails, plopping his ass right down on Stephen’s face, and he can’t breathe. The thought of him being suffocated by this boy’s ass, together with how his own cock has been rubbing at his pants, makes him cum, pretty much untouched.

Peter launches off of Stephen’s face as he realizes what he’s been doing. His face flames as what just happened hits him.

“Hey.” Stephen says softly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He leans forward to kiss Peter chastely. “What do you think about a bath?”

Peter beams up at the doctor. “I think that sounds great.”

“Good.” Stephen says, looking at Peter, who’s positively glowing. He hands the boy a damp towel to wipe the stickiness off, then heads to the bathroom to run a hot bath.

“Peter, get in.” Stephen calls. “You’re already naked.”

Stephen stands in the middle of the ridiculously large bathroom as Peter walks in, hands covering his crotch, looking like a little deer caught in the headlights. The boy’s blush extends all the way from his cheeks to the light trail of hair below his belly button. Absolutely gorgeous, Stephen thinks.

“No need to be shy,” the doctor says, and Peter blushes even harder, refusing to look him in the eye. Nonetheless, the boy steps into the ridiculously large bathtub (enough room for 4, Stephen dares to say, no doubt for Stark’s escapades) and inhales quickly at his feet touching the hot water. He soon gets used to the temperature, however, and lowers himself down to soak in the water, closing his eyes. He hears the rustling of fabric and opens his eyes to find Stephen undressing, back towards Peter.

Peter finds himself mesmerized by the lines of the older man’s back and how the muscles stretch and move as he takes off his shirt. Finds himself staring as Stephen slides off his trousers, revealing thick, strong thighs and toned calves. He wonders if this is what heaven feels like.

“As much as I would love for you to continue staring, I do want to get in that tub.” Stephen chuckles as he strips off his boxers, watching Peter blush a bright tomato red.

“It’s alright.” Stephen murmurs, stepping into the tub, sitting beside Peter. “I love it when you blush like that.” Which makes Peter blush. Again.

They sit in comfortable silence until Peter suddenly lunges at the doctor, climbing on top of him and kissing him. It’s absolutely filthy, the boy’s tongue practically assaulting his mouth.

When he finally pulls away to take a breather, Peter finds Stephen hard again.

“Don’t mind me,” the older man says, reading Peter’s mind. “Keep going.”

So Peter keeps going, kissing at Stephen’s neck, his collarbone, his hair. Eventually, he realizes that the doctor’s just sitting there, sans reaction, other than his erection nestled right in between Peter’s ass.

“Don’t worry,” Stephen murmurs again. “I’m just transfixed by your beauty.”

“Transfixed by my beauty, huh?” Peter teases. “I bet you say that to all the twinks.”

“Would you like me to compile a list of things I admire about you?” Stephen asks lightly, almost jokingly but not quite. Like he would do it if Peter asked. “I’ll start with your physical beauty, then.” the older man says, flipping them around so he’s on top.

“Your hair. God, your hair,” Stephen groans, kissing the top of Peter’s head. “It’s like a halo. These fluffy chestnut curls will be the death of every man. And every woman.”

Stephen moves lower. “Your eyes. I’ve never found the colour _brown _to be particularly beautiful,” he stops and chuckles to himself. “But your eyes. Gorgeous. A gorgeous chocolate honey whiskey colour. Utterly dazzling.”

“Chocolate honey whiskey doesn’t sound very appetizing,” Peter jokes.

“Oh, but it is,” Stephen says darkly, then brightens. “Your lips. How do I even start?”

They were in that tub for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @starrystarker
> 
> [my ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/starrystarker)


	3. bucky barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re gorgeous.” Bucky whispers, pressing a trail of kisses from his nose all the way to his belly button, slowly moving down. He goes further south, pressing kisses to the backs of Peter’s hands, still covering his crotch. “Will you let me see your cock, baby?” Bucky murmurs.

Peter looked at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t hard to get Nathan, the TA, to rough him up a little. The older man had asked him out multiple times but with no avail. When Peter asked him to look over his essay (in his office, perhaps), he was ecstatic. Peter thought he was about to pop a boner right there.

From there, it was almost too easy to get Nathan to leave bruises here and there, litter hickeys and bite marks all over his neck, and grab at his legs way too hard. Hard enough to leave handprints. All it took was a little “bite me, Nathan!” and “want you to mark me up, daddy-” and “choke me, please” and here he was.

Peter looks over his outfit, simple this time around: a white sweater tucked into grey sleep shorts. He thought white and lighter colours would bring out the dark purples and reds of the marks, which are quite literally all over his body. Lifting the hem of his shorts, Peter studies the hand-shaped bruises on his upper thighs. Nathan’s hands were huge. Even though Peter’s thighs aren’t thick, the bruises covered the entire front of them.

Tilting his head, Peter runs a finger down the exposed column of his neck, and winces as his nail catches on a healing, but not quite, bite mark. As Peter’s taking a closer look at the marks on his neck, he realizes that they extend all the way down to his collarbone. He pulls the neck of his sweater down a little, and lets out a small gasp as the fabric reveals many more grape-sized hickeys that are dark red. God, how hard did he suck?

The door to the bathroom opens and Peter whips his head around so fast that if he had longer hair, he surely would’ve hit himself with it.

“B-Bucky!” Peter stammers, quickly letting go of his sweater, pulling it up in a futile attempt to hide the marks and failing spectacularly. Truly, he deserves at least a Teen Choice Award.

The man grunts, not bothering to say hello verbally before marching right up to Peter and grabbing his sweater, tugging it down to reveal more marks. He jabs a finger at Peter’s neck. “Wh-” he starts before looking down and taking in the marks on the boy’s thighs. “What the fuck?”

“Um-” Peter says, cut off by Bucky.

“No. No talking. You’re gonna tell me who did this, then you’re gonna stay here.” Bucky demands, tilting Peter’s head to take a closer look at the bruises on his neck.

“What? No.” Peter laughs, gently pushing the man’s hand away. “I’m not telling you.”

“I don’t think you understand, kid. That wasn’t a request. Whoever hurt you deserves to pay-”

Peter starts laughing, loud guffaws echoing in the large bathroom, doubling over to slap at his knees.

“Bucky, no, that’s not it.” Peter laughs again, even more so at the confused look on the assassin’s face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love that I have a trained assassin ready to beat up anyone who hurts me, but this is different.”

Bucky raises his eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I liked it.” Peter watches realization dawn on the older man’s face. He continues nonchalantly. “In fact, I asked him to do it.”

“Him?” Bucky asks, face giving away absolutely nothing. “I didn’t know you swung that way. No pun intended.”

“I swing both ways, actually. And yeah, it’s not really information I share. Can’t you just see the headlines? Spider-Man Revealed to be ALSO GAY! Yeah, I don’t think so.” Peter says as Bucky backs up a couple steps, no longer worked up over the marks on Peter. Or so it seems.

“I think that’s fine,” Bucky murmurs, staring at one particular spot on Peter’s neck. “More than fine, in fact.” These words are said so quietly that Peter’s sure that without his heightened senses, he wouldn’t have heard them at all.

“What?” Peter says, pretending not to have heard.

“Nothing. Chap left lots of bruises, huh?” Bucky says, dragging his gaze from Peter’s neck all the way down to the handprints on his thighs.

“Yeah, I dunno. I just really like the feeling.” Peter muses, staring at his feet. “I think you started it, actually, Bucky.”

“I- what?” The older man says, momentarily stunned.

“Yeah, like, uh, a couple months ago, when we were sparring.” Peter says, looking back up at Bucky. The man’s eyes are positively glowing. They put Edward Cullen’s to shame, Peter decides.  
“You, uh, grabbed my arm, a-and flipped me around,” Peter says, taking a step towards the older man. “I landed on my stomach, and y-you were still grabbing my arm.”

Bucky looks thoughtful, probably trying to remember this particular spar.

“You pulled a little bit, like you were- you were gonna break my arm.” Peter says quietly. “I got scared. I-It hurt- a little! Just a little!” He reassures Bucky, who looks like he’s just heard a story about Peter’s dog dying.

“And, um, I guess y-you got a flashback, or something? Then Mr. Rogers came in and pulled you, uh, off of me.” Peter finishes lamely. “But after that,” he covers his face, unable to look at Bucky as he utters out the last part. “I, uh, went straight to my room and I- I jerked off. I know it sounds really weird, but-” Peter pauses to take a peek at Bucky’s reaction, peeking from in between his fingers. He lets out a little sigh of relief when he sees that the older man doesn’t look disgusted with him. And if he is, well, at least he’s not showing it.

“-but I- I came harder than I’ve ever done before. And I did it while thinking about-” Peter stops. He takes a small step towards Bucky. “B-Bucky? A-Are you grossed out? Y-You think I-I’m disgusting, d-don’t you?” Peter sniffles, wiping a tear away with the back of his hand.

“Are you sure?” Bucky says quietly, and Peter almost misses it.

“What?” Peter says, not sure if he heard right.

“Are you sure?” Bucky says, a little louder this time as he cradles Peter’s face with his good hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

“Sure about what?” Peter asks, brows furrowing. He’s so afraid that he was reading this all wrong, that Bucky doesn’t like him like that.

“Sure about me.” Bucky whispers. “I lost control when I was sparring with you, Peter.”

“Buck. Bucky,” Peter says, glad that he didn’t read this one wrong, chortling through his tears.

“Look at you,” Bucky says, grabbing Peter’s shoulders lightly and looking him up and down. “You’re beautiful. You can do better than me.”

Peter huffs, cups Bucky’s face in his hands, and pulls him down to meet their lips together. Peter swirls his tongue around Bucky’s, then pulls away. The older man looks dazed, staring at Peter hungrily, his eyes wild.

“There. That’s it. Do you want me or not?” Peter pouts, crossing his arms. “Because I want you, Bucky.”

There’s a low growl from Bucky, and then Peter’s being lifted. He hooks his legs around the man’s waist, the height perfect for Peter to just tilt his head down and press his lips to Bucky’s.

“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Peter moans in between kisses. Bucky sits them down on the bed, and the boy immediately pushes him down onto his back, then moves to lie on top of him, kissing him fiercely. Bucky slips his tongue in and out of Peter’s mouth, teasing him, riling him up, and he wants to record the high whine that the action draws from Peter’s lips so he can play it over and over again, on repeat, after this is over.

They pull away from each other eventually, a string of spit connecting their lips. Peter licks it from his bottom lip, watching Bucky follow the movement intently.

“I- I want you to use something on me,” Peter whispers, watching for Bucky’s reaction. The man seems mildly curious. He gets off of Bucky and the bed, grabs the black anal beads from a box under his bed, and tentatively hands it to Bucky, who sits up to receive it.

“Um, y-you know what this is, right?” Peter asks, looking up at the older man.

“Do you have lube?” Bucky asks, holding the string of beads in his palm.

“C-Could you use spit?” Peter blushes. “I- I like it better when- when they use spit.”

“Huh. Okay.” Bucky says, brows raised. “Well, strip then.”

Peter blushes again then starts stripping, almost tripping when he goes to kick his pants off. He hesitates as he’s about to take off his boxers, and Bucky must sense his hesitation.  
“I’ll turn away, if that makes you feel better.” Bucky teases.

The boxers and shirt come down quickly after that. He lies down face up on the bed, squirming a little, covering his dick with his hands.

“You good?” Bucky asks, still facing away from Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice cracks. Wincing, he watches Bucky slowly turn around to look at him, sprawled out on the bed. The older man takes his time looking at Peter, gaze lingering especially long at his crotch. He lowers himself down on Peter gently, pressing a kiss to the boy’s nose.

“You’re gorgeous.” Bucky whispers, pressing a trail of kisses from his nose all the way to his belly button, slowly moving down. He goes further south, pressing kisses to the backs of Peter’s hands, still covering his crotch. “Will you let me see your cock, baby?” Bucky murmurs, pressing kisses everywhere around where Peter’s hands are. He nuzzles at the boy’s crotch, drawing little gasps, before Peter moves his hands to fist at Bucky’s hair. The boy’s little cocklet jumps erect, no longer being held down by his hands.

“Baby, is that why you didn’t want to show me?” Bucky coos as he strokes Peter’s tiny cocklet. “Because you’re embarrassed of your cute little cock?”

“N-No-” Peter stammers, feeling a drop of precum pool at the head of his cock.

“So cute. So tiny,” Bucky murmurs. Peter blushes, humiliated at his size. “Not even really a cock. Just a small little hairless cocklet. I’m gonna play with it later, okay? Now turn around.” Bucky commands.

Peter flips onto his stomach obediently. He feels Bucky’s tongue nudge at his hole, an insistent pressure. Just as soon as the tongue enters, it pulls away. Bucky spits at his hole, and a finger pushes in instead. The stretch feels fucking amazing, and even though it’s just one finger, it stretches like if Peter had three of his own in.

Bucky twists his finger around, trying to widen the opening for a second finger to enter. He adds a second finger, then a third, and how full Peter feels has moans and whimpers escaping his lips. The older man’s fingers are nowhere near his prostate but he feels like he’s about to cum anytime now, feels so on edge.

“Look at you, a whimpering mess, all because of three fingers. I’m stretching you all loose, baby, all sloppy for me.” Bucky murmurs, enjoying watching Peter squirm at the words. “How are you gonna keep the beads in with a loose hole, baby? You gonna clench your ass real tight?”

Peter clenches his ass at the words, and Bucky groans, imagining that hole clenching around his cock, the wet heat engulfing his length.

“I think you’re ready for the beads, baby.” The words barely register in Peter’s mind as the first bead pushes into his hole, the lewd squelching sound making him blush. The second and third beads are increasingly larger, and Peter shuts his eyes, scrunching up his nose. He can hardly wait for the pressure that is when the final bead is pushed in, the biggest bead, but for now, the process is torturous.

“Look at your hole, baby, so stretched out by my fingers. Your ass is swallowing the beads like it’s hungry.” Bucky coos, pushing the fifth bead into Peter. He’s starting to feel the pressure, the weight in his ass, and it’s fucking delicious.

“M-More, Bucky-” Peter whimpers, wanting the biggest bead in him as soon as possible.

The older man complies, pushing in the last two beads speedily. “You ready for the last one, baby?” Bucky rasps, watching Peter’s fluttering hole raptly.

“Y-Yes, give it to me-” Peter moans, the beads rubbing against each other in his ass, pressing at his prostate with every movement. He tightens his ass around the beads, forcing them deeper, making room for the biggest bead. Whining, he feels the beads knocking around his walls, a constant pressure on his prostate now.

“You sure, baby? You look awfully full.” Bucky teases, bringing the last bead to his entrance but not quite pushing it in.

“Bucky, please! I can do it, I can take it-” Peter wails as the older man pushes the biggest bead into his ass with some difficulty. The last bead looks like it’s about to burst out of Peter anytime, but Peter sucks in his stomach, clenches his ass, and his hole swallows the biggest bead with a wet pop.

“Baby,” Bucky grunts, flipping Peter onto his back. “So good for me, taking whatever I give you.” Bucky runs his hand over the boy’s belly, protruding just the slightest bit from the beads. He massages Peter’s stomach, almost, and Peter is writhing, every stroke of Bucky’s hands making the beads roll onto his prostate, making the beads press against his rim.

Peter’s sweating, the blinding pleasure of pressure on his special spot making his head swim dizzily, and he mumbles some sort of warning to Bucky before he’s crying out, “B-Bucky! O-Oh god, oh god-” and spurting all over his stomach.

“Good boy, so good for me, baby,” Bucky whispers to Peter as the boy rides out his orgasm. “I’m gonna pull these out now, honey.”

Peter nods weakly, eyes bleary and brain fuzzy from the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just had. He feels a light tug at the string of beads in him.

“Peter, baby, you gotta relax.” Bucky murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss at the tip of his cocklet. “Relax. It’s okay, sweetie, just relax, I’ve got you-” and he pulls the biggest bead out, the wet squelching loud and lewd. “It’s alright, the biggest one is out, baby.”

The rest come out easily, Bucky tugging lightly at the string. He puts his knees on either side of Peter, who’s still close to passing out.

“Thank you, Buck.” Peter mumbles, before falling asleep in the man’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @starrystarker
> 
> [my ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/starrystarker)

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @starrystarker  
> [my ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/starrystarker)


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